


If Wishes Were Horses

by Karen T (poohmusings)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-11-01
Updated: 2004-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-25 15:36:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poohmusings/pseuds/Karen%20T
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam experiences the worst morning after EVER.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Wishes Were Horses

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** They don't belong to me and that's why I can turn them into zombies.  
>  **Notes:** Written for the 2004 La La La Ficathon. Slobbery smooches to Julie for the beta and the ending. And thanks SO much to nanda for the title. ;)  
>  **Warning:** Story contains gratuitous zombies -- or just one -- and no plot whatsoever. It also doesn't make a lot of sense if you think really hard about the details, so don't do that. Just focus on the zombie. *g*

Sam always knew sleeping with her commanding officer would have negative repercussions. She could be court-martialed. He could be court-martialed. They could _both_ be court-martialed. And her dad could be called back to Earth to witness it all in person.

But she'd been drunk -- _really_ drunk -- last night and hadn't been thinking in terms of court-martials and pissed off dads. And Jack had smelled _really_ good and had worn those jeans that fit him _really_ well and yeah, she'd pretty much convinced herself that she could handle whatever repercussions might come her way. 

That, however, was last night. Last night was fun. Last night was good. Last night Jack hadn't been ... And he hadn't needed to be ... 

"So." Sam watched Daniel plant his feet before sliding down the wall to take a seat on the floor beside her. "I think Jack really is a zombie." 

Right on cue, Jack let loose a hoarse "Brraaaaaaaiiinnnsss" before the SFs guarding his cell leveled their zats at him and shouted, "Calm down, sir! Calm _down_!" 

Sam buried her head in her hands. Dammit, why did the universe hate her _this_ much? 

"You know I don't like to, uh, pry, but ..." She imagined Daniel fidgeting with his glasses as he struggled to find the least offensive words with which to phrase his question. "Jack spent the night at your house, right? I mean, that's what you told Teal'c and ..." 

She raised her eyes to meet Daniel's. His face was lined with concern. But it was also lined with something else. Something ... Dammit to hell. Daniel was fucking _amused_ by all this. "He wasn't a zombie when we fell asleep," she said, her voice crisp with annoyance. 

"But he was when you two ... woke up?" 

Her back snapped straight as she realized what he was inferring. "We woke up _separately_ , Daniel. Separately." 

Denial was the key to everything, she decided. All she and Jack did was sleep last night. There was no kissing. Or sucking. Or groping. Or undressing. Or fingers sliding between her thighs to rub that one spot that makes her-- 

Shit. 

Her cheeks burned. "The general slept in my guest bedroom!" she blurted out. 

And the lies just kept piling up. 

"Okay ..." Daniel scooted an inch away from her exuberance. 

She buried her face in her hands again. Where's your run-of-the-mill court-martial when you need one? 

"So you woke up -- separately -- to find Zombie Jack lounging in your guest room?" 

"Kitchen," she mumbled into her palms. 

"Jack was in your kitchen?" 

"Yes." 

"And he was a zombie?" 

"Yes. I guess." 

"How'd you know?" 

Her hands dropped away as she lifted her head and rested it against the wall. Across the room, 'Zombie Jack' was attempting to claw out one of the SFs' eyes while the other SF was gently, yet firmly, swatting Jack's hands away with the butt of his zat. "Daniel? When you wake up to find someone trashing your kitchen while making zombie noises and then coming after you in a zombie-like fashion, you'll jump to the zombie conclusion pretty quickly." 

"Right." He gave her a small, sympathetic smile and leaned over to squeeze her right knee encouragingly. "I'm glad he didn't succeed in eating your brains." 

Even though the current situation was serious and Jack's condition was _really_ serious, the lunacy of Daniel's words triggered a flow of impulses to that deep, dark place in her brain where the 'this isn't really happening to me, is it?' synapse was located. She was soon doubled over in laughter. 

"Sam?" Daniel sounded worried -- no doubt wondering if inappropriate laughter was a precursor to zombie-ism -- but all she could do was shake her head and continue laughing. 

After several gasps for air, she managed to relax her abs enough to sputter, "Daniel. The general's. A. Zombie." 

Daniel stared at her for a second. Then his left eye twitched. Then the corners of his lips poked upwards before he forced them back down. Then he burst out laughing as well. 

He grabbed hold of her forearm. "Jack's a zombie!" he exclaimed. 

"Yes!" 

"And he tried to eat your brains!" 

"Yes!" 

"And you had to zat him!" 

" _Twice!_ " 

Tears flowed freely and Sam was slumped against Daniel's shoulder when a pair of feet came to a stop before the huddled mass of their bodies. 

"Colonel Carter. Daniel Jackson. Has there been improvement to O'Neill's condition?" 

Daniel recovered first and removed his glasses to wipe his eyes dry. "No, Teal'c, Jack's still a--" He inhaled a sharp breath as his voice hitched, laughter no doubt threatening to bubble up to the surface again. "Zombie." 

Sam nodded and fought to regain her composure, her tight-lipped smile evidence of her struggle. 

"Is O'Neill's condition not of some concern?" Teal'c continued to press, extending a hand to each of his teammates. 

"Oh, no, it's-- There's a _lot_ of concern," Sam insisted as she accepted Teal'c's hand and allowed him to help her up to her feet. "We're just laughing because ..." 

"Jack's a zombie," Daniel finished with a smirk, dusting dirt off the seat of his pants. 

"I see," Teal'c replied although it was clear he really didn't. 

A glance at the SFs revealed they didn't 'see' either for they were regarding her and Daniel with blatant disapproval. 

Sam sighed at their censuring looks and refocused her attention on Jack. He was currently hunched in a corner of his cell. Drooling on himself. 

The image was killing her sex drive. 

"Hey, Jack's calmed down," Daniel pointed out. 

"He has indeed, Daniel Jackson." 

"Think whatever ... infected him might be fading?" 

Sam perked up at the possibility. "Maybe. Do you think one of us should get Dr. Lee and see--" 

Perhaps sensing that all their guards were down, Jack made a sudden lunge for the cell bars. His face smacked into the bars first, a guttural cry of displeasure soon following. 

"Oooh." Sam winced and saw both Daniel and Teal'c recoil from Jack's harsh impact with the unyielding metal. 

"That's gonna leave a mark," Daniel said with a grimace. 

Sam squeezed her eyes shut and wished for a simple court-martial for the hundredth time that morning. "I should see if Dr. Lee's figured out what's going on," she said morosely. 

"It could be worse, you know." 

She eyed Daniel with skepticism. She knew he was simply trying to cheer her up, but she doubted even Daniel's abilities to put a positive spin on Jack's zombie-ness. "Really?" 

"Yeah. You ... could have slept with Jack and then woke up in the morning to find him a zombie." 

Her heart leapt into her throat and began thumping as she gaped at him, slack-jawed. 

"What?" he asked in honest confusion, his eyes darting from her to Teal'c and then back to her again. 

"Nothing." She gave her head a firm shake to clear her thoughts. "That's just ... That _is_ much worse." 

Her voice sounded nonchalant in her ears, but Sam beat a hasty retreat out of the room. 

"Damn curse," she mumbled as she rushed down the corridor. 

She'd kind of killed Jack. 

_-the end-_


End file.
